


Post Its

by rox2the_anne



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crush at First Sight, Crushes, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Short & Sweet, SnowBaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-27 03:19:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17758784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rox2the_anne/pseuds/rox2the_anne
Summary: I got this idea from creativepromptsforwriting on tumblr. "It started with a small problem and a sticky note I put on your door to tell you about it and you answered with another sticky note and now the door is full and I've never even met you."





	1. First Sight

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoy this!  
> Thank you so much for reading!  
> Happy Valentine's Day!
> 
> xxoo

BAZ

The first time I see him, he is walking up the stairs towards me with a huge box labeled BEDROOM in his arms. 

That’s right. New tenants today.

I can’t see his face at first, just the box, and his strong, tawny arms holding it up. As he gets closer, I notice they are splattered with freckles and moles. He peaks around his encumbrance, giving me a proper look at him.

He’s beautiful; golden curls, blue eyes, and toothy grin when he spots me.

I opened my mouth to ask if he needs help, but I’m cut off by a small blonde at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Simon, make sure you put the boxes in the rooms that are written on them. Don’t just put them anywhere,” she calls to him.

Of fucking course, he has a girlfriend. 

He stops then, placing the box down on the floor, so that he can turn to look at his tiny tyrant. When he straightens back up, he smiles at me again making my stomach churn a bit. 

 

Nope. Not having that. The last thing I need is to fawn over my new neighbor/ straight boyfriend of a bossy blonde. 

I sneer at myself for ogling this guy, and rush past him. It sounds like he is saying something, but I can’t be sure as I’m too busy grumbling angrily at myself.

***

SIMON

 

I’m heading up to my new flat with a huge box that I really should have insisted on help with. I can’t see the stairs at all. I peak my head around to see how much further I have to go, and that’s when I see him: a very gorgeous, very posh man with long, dark hair, impossibly pale skin, and an almost startled look that makes me smile.

I wasn’t expecting him either.

Agatha yells at me from down below in her usual high and mighty manner as if I’m her moving guy and these are her things. I set my box down, intent on talking to my new neighbor. I turn to give her a withering look, and when I look back, the man is positively grimacing.

“Hi, I’m Si-“ Was all I got out before the jerk brushed passed me, swearing, and almost knocking me off balance. “Mon,” I finish as I turn around and watch his dark form descend the stairs.

Agatha is staring at him unabashedly, even going so far as to continue watching him through the glass of the front door. She looks up at me, blushing, as she remembers herself, and I frown. 

Things have been really strained between us since she broke up with me a few weeks ago. In an effort to regain a little normalcy, she offered to help Penelope and me move into our new flat today. Unfortunately, so far all she’s done is label things, tell us what to do, and now gaze at fit guys in the stairwell.


	2. Jerks

BAZ

After a tense dinner with my father and stepmum, I put in my earbuds and crank up my most calming playlist. Dinner with my parents has always been taxing, but ever since I told my father that I’m gay, all interactions between us have been so awkward it’s almost laughable. 

I’m standing in front of my mailbox, searching for the key when someone bumps into me from behind. I snatch a bud from my ear and turn to face my assaulter. It’s the tiny blond from before. The girlfriend. I try hard not to grimace at her, schooling my face into its usual expression, annoyance.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going. My label maker jammed, and I was… Sorry,” She’s babbling. I nod and make to walk around her, but she holds out an arm to stop me. “I’m Agatha, by the way,” she says. 

“Baz,” I say curtly. Then immediately feel guilty for being so rude. “I suppose welcome is in order,” I tell her. She furrows her brow in confusion, so I clarify, “Since we’re neighbors now.”

“Oh! No,” she giggles a bit, and places her hand on my arm. I stiffen at the contact, but she doesn’t seem to notice. She flips her silky blond hair behind her shoulder, and says, “We aren’t neighbors. I was just helping my friends move in.”

Friends? As in not boyfriend? Now, she has my attention. 

“That’s nice of you,” I say. Agatha seems like the kind of girl that I can butter up with a bit of flattery. “So, what of your friends,” I ask with a bit of a cheeky smile. “They aren’t going to be trouble, are they?” 

Agatha laughs at this. “Definitely not. Simon is the sweetest guy in the world. He’d do anything for anybody. And Penny does nothing but read and study. You couldn’t ask for better neighbors.”

Simon and Penny? Not necessarily a couple. It’d be weird to ask though, right? Oh my God, why do I even care? I literally got one cursory glance at the guy. I need to get a grip. 

“So, anyway,” Agatha says, snapping me out of my rumination, “I guess you and I will be seeing a lot of each other. Can’t say I mind.” She smiles prettily at me, batting her eyes. Oh. Ohhhhh. Yikes. 

“Oh, uh, yeah, probably not. I like to keep to myself. Nice talking to you,” I spout at her. Agatha’s smile instantly falls along with her hand on my arm, and I start walking up the stairs before I can see or hear anymore out of her. 

When I reach the top of the stairs, I see him for the second time. His broad back is facing me, he’s holding a screwdriver and leaning into his flat. 

“Now?” he calls to someone I can’t see. 

“Hang on… yeah, now,” a girl responds from inside. 

He presses down on the doorbell, and the sound chimes through their flat. 

“Success,” he cheers. 

A short, chubby Indian girl with wild, unnaturally red hair and large purple glasses runs out to meet him.  
“I knew we could get it to work,” she says smugly. 

The little scene shifts from cute to adorable when they actually high five about their little victory. He throws his arm around the girl’s shoulder and I decide that they must, in fact, be more than friends. I turn from them and beeline for my door, hoping they don’t see me. I glance over my shoulder at them as I unlock my door, and the girl makes eye contact. 

“Hey,” she starts, but I pretend not to notice, and shut my door quickly. I’ll chalk it up to the earbuds if she ever asks. I’m in no mood to meet new people. Least of all, Watford Apartments’ Cutest Couple. 

I lean my back against my door and sigh.

Why am I the way I am?

I hear a muffled, “I told you,” from him. Simon.

Awesome.

***

 

SIMON

I’m walking into the apartment building with warm bags of Indian food and a grocery sack of ingredients for a surprise dessert for Pen. I’m trying to situate everything in my arms to open the front door when my brooding, albeit handsome, new neighbor walks up beside me and opens the door. 

“Brilliant, thanks, mate,” I say, but it was for no reason. The door closes before I can get through, and the guy just keeps walking. “Are you shitting me?” I yell through the door. This guy is really beginning to piss me off. 

I manage to ring the buzzer to our flat with my elbow, and Penny comes to help me with the door and the bags. 

“I fucking hate that guy,” I tell her by way of greeting. Penny looks around confused. 

“What guy?” 

“The neighbor guy. 2A,” I say. “He just slammed the damn door in my face.”

“Maybe he didn’t see you,” she suggests. 

“No, he definitely saw me. He’s just a dick,” I counter. 

“Hmm… I have a hard time believing someone can be that unpleasant. I’ve seen him with earbuds in a lot. Maybe he really was oblivious.” 

“Yeah, and maybe Darth Vader was really a nice guy,” I say. Then I realized what I said, squeezing my eyes shut at my error. Before Penny can say anything, I hold up my now free hand. “I know.”

 

After Penny and I have finished eating dinner, we clean up the kitchen and watch Dr. Who together. Penny goes to bed after two episodes, but I decide to watch more since I don’t have to go to work tomorrow. 

Halfway through my fourth episode, I hear music. Really loud, new wave music. Penny storms into the living room about two seconds later. 

“Simon, what the hell? Turn that down,” she hollers, angrily squinting at me without her glasses on. 

I hold up both hands in surrender, “It isn’t me!”

We both look at the front door, as if we can see through it, across the hall and into the asshole’s apartment. 

Fucking 2A.

Finally! A reason to confront him. I stand up and make for the door, but Penny rushes over and grabs my arm. 

“Simon, please don’t go over there and fight with him. You promised me no more fighting,” she looks up at me pleadingly, and I sigh. 

All right then…

I walk over the kitchen junk drawer, pull out at small note pad and pen, and scribble a note. 

I open the door and look at Pen, “No fighting, I swear,” I say. 

I slip across the hall and stick the Post It to his door and knock. I run back to my flat before he can see me and I watch through the peep hole. 

“Oh, that’s mature,” Penny tuts behind me. 

“Quiet,” I hiss, waving my hand in her direction, not taking my eyes off his door. 

The music turns off and he opens the door.

He’s wearing a suit. He looks great. 

Probably sleeps in it, the posh bastard.


	3. Leave a Message

BAZ

I open my door to find no one on the other side. I look down the hall in both directions then spot the note stuck under the 2 on my door.

TOO LOUD!!! THERE ARE OTHER PEOPLE IN THIS BUILDING!

Oh, hell no.

I slam my door closed, make my way over to the stereo, and turn the music up louder than before. A bit childish, but it felt right in the moment.  
Now I’m standing here in my living room with music too loud to think straight and a worse mood than I started the night with. 

I drove an hour and a half to my parents’ house to spend time with my little sister, Mordelia, this afternoon, and they wouldn’t let me fucking see her. My father is still pissed about our disagreement at lunch the other day. He mentioned to me that one of his friend’s daughters is in town… and single. I tried to laugh it off, and he got angry. He started yelling right there in the restaurant; calling me an ingrate and saying that I should “at least try”. So now, apparently my punishment is exile from my childhood home. As if I don’t punish myself enough. 

Walking back to my flat, I had worked myself up so much that I was practically weeping when I reached the front door. That’s when I saw him for the third time. He was like a ray of sun in my dark cloud of a day.

He was adorably bumbling, trying to open the door with his arms full of groceries. He’s too cute, too beautiful. As I took in the sight, my stomach did a little flip, and I let out a tiny sob. I ran through the front door as fast as I could, terrified that he’d see me crying. 

As I hurried up the stairs, I heard him growl like an animal and curse me. I deserved it. 

It’s six hours later and he’s now leaving passive aggressive notes on my front door. I’m assuming it’s him. I seriously doubt the lovely Penny is capable of such horrendous chicken scratch.

I walk to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of pinot noir. Hopefully, this will help me fall asleep. I’m ready for this day to end. I down the glass, grab the bottle, and head to my bedroom to put on pyjamas. 

I’ve almost finished the bottle when I decide that my beautiful, pain in the ass neighbor needs a taste of his own medicine. I grab a pad of Post Its out of my backpack and write him a note. 

I stick the note to his front door, knock, and rush back to the safety of my own flat. I press my eye to the peep hole and wait like the creeper I am.

***

SIMON

I’m woken up from my dreams of travelling the universe with Matt Smith by the sound of a sharp knock on my front door. I look over at the clock on the wall; it reads 1:13 AM. 

Shit. It’s probably the neighbor. 

I bet I really ruffled his haughty feathers with my note. He’s probably been stewing over it for the past hour. 

I try to make myself look as threatening as possible as I swing the door open. He isn’t there. Instead, there’s a note on my door. Even his handwriting is beautiful. Of course. 

_I try to forget about that. If you are unfamiliar with the music, perhaps you should be thanking me for enlightening you._

I huff out a small laugh in spite of myself and look over at his door. Smug little shit. I wonder if he’s watching me the way I watched him. The note I wrote to him is still stuck to his door. 

I walk to my kitchen, not bothering to close my door, and I write him another note. 

This one is a bit longer… and neater. 

I stick it to his door, right on top of the other one, and then I stick my tongue out at his peep hole for good measure.


	4. Play Nice

BAZ

 

I wake up on my couch to the 8 AM alarm going off on my phone. When I stand up my back screams at me in protest and my head pounds. I take a hot shower to wash the previous day away, and after a quick cup of coffee, I’m out the door. As I’m locking up, I spot a new note sticking to the bottom corner of the first note he wrote me.

Oh right. I wrote him back last night. 

I LIKE DEPECHE MODE JUST FINE. LIKE I SAID IT’S THE VOLUME THAT’S THE PROBLEM. MY FRIEND IS TRYING TO SLEEP. WE AREN’T ALL VAMPIRES.

I read the note and can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face. 

Friend. 

His roommate is his **friend**.

***

SIMON

 

When I get home from work, I see yet another sticky note on my door from the neighbor. It’s stuck perfectly next to the first note.

_I suppose I do keep odd hours. I’ll try to keep it down in the future._

Wait, he’s being nice?

I feel oddly disappointed by the lack of sass in this note, but I decide it would probably be in everyone’s best interest for me to write something nice back.

I take out my notepad and jot down THAT WOULD BE NICE. THANK YOU.

I stick the final note to 2A’s door with the other ones. 

As I’m walking back to my flat, something occurs to me. Should I knock again? Is that the game? 

I turn around and look at the small collection of notes on his door. 

Why doesn’t he take them down?

I face my own door and look at the notes he wrote to me and I smile… He… 2A…


	5. Coy

BAZ

 

I can already see the new note on my door when I reach the top of the stairs. I look around to make sure I’m alone, then rush over to read it. In the center of the paper, there is a polite thanks and then, scrunched in the bottom corner:

WHAT IS YOUR NAME?

My heart nearly stops beating when I see the words. 

He wants to know my name. This gives me a completely unjustified sense of triumph. That doesn’t mean anything really. 

But still, he wants to know what to call me.

***

SIMON

 

_I would tell you, but then I’d have to kill you._

I’m still smiling when I place my bag on the table and sit down on the couch next to Penny, who is lying on her side watching some sea life documentary.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” she asks, nudging me with her foot. 

I just shrug, not looking away from the tv. I have no idea how to explain what’s happening with our neighbor.

Yesterday I wanted to punch him in the face, and today he’s leaving cute notes on my door. 

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with the creepy notes on the door, would it?” she presses, waggling her eyebrows. 

“They aren’t creepy,” I argue. 

Although, I suppose that most recent one is. I snigger thinking about it.

“Uh huh,” Penny says smugly. 

I throw a cushion at her.


	6. Say what now?

BAZ

The next few days carry on in the same fashion. Every morning I wake up with a new note on my door and leave one for him before I go to class. There’s a new one on the door when I get home, when I return from the laundry mat, when I’m watching tv in the evening and hear a knock on my door knowing no one will be there when I answer.

OH COME ON!!

_Guess._

2A? (THAT’S WHAT WE CALL YOU.)

_Yeah, no. (And you talk about me?)_

I FIGURED IT OUT FOR MYSELF, PITCH.

_Mailbox?_

YEAH. HEHE

_Clever boy._

I HAVE MY MOMENTS.

_Every dog has his day, I suppose._

ARE YOU CALLING ME A DOG?

_You called me a vampire._

WHICH YOU NEVER DENIED SO…

_So, you’d better be careful._

I’D LIKE TO TAKE MY CHANCES.

***

SIMON

 

I’m halfway up the stairs when I realize that I’m smiling like a lunatic. I stop in my tracks and try to place this feeling. I think I already know. Chances are, I’ll have a new note on my door from Pitch and the idea makes me… giddy. My last note was pretty transparent, and I’ve been trying to guess what his response will be all day. 

A hand claps down on my shoulder and I jolt back.

“Hey, Si,” Penny says cheerily. “Whoa, sorry. Jumpy much?”

“Hey, Pen,” I respond. “I was just thinking.”

Penny loops her arm through mine and resumes trekking up the stairs. 

“Well, think inside, silly.”

We walk the rest of the way to the flat arm in arm, chatting about our days. When I look up at the door, my smile falls. 

He didn’t write back. 

Oh God. 

I was flirty and he didn’t like it.


	7. Bright Idea

BAZ

“Something wrong?” my aunt asks. “You’re eating even less than usual.”

I look up at Fiona and sigh. I don’t really know what’s wrong with me. I should be happy, right? In Simon’s latest note, he seemed to show interest in me. I should be dancing and celebrating at the news that my inappropriate crush may not be so inappropriate after all, but instead, I’m uneasy. I didn’t know how to respond, so I just didn’t, and now he probably thinks I was turned off. Should I ask Fiona? She might have some advice on how to proceed… after she stops laughing. 

“Is this about what your dad said about you becoming a teacher?” my aunt presses. “Because, you know, bullocks to him.”

Oh, right, that. 

I cover my face with my hand and groan. 

“It’s not that,” I tell her. “He’ll get over it when he realizes that nothing is as bad as me being gay, and he’ll focus on that again.”

“Then what’s your problem? You’ve been so quiet tonight. Basil,” she puts a hand on mine as the realization hits her, “have you met a bloke?”

“Kind of…” I say.

“Kind of? What’s that mean? Some internet thing?” she cocks an eyebrow. 

“No, no. He’s my neighbor, and we’ve been… corresponding; with notes. His last message was a bit flirtatious, and…”

“You clammed up,” Fiona finishes for me.

“I just don’t know what to say back.”

“Ask him out. He’s let you know he’s DTF, eh?”

I cross my arms over my chest and give her a withering look. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cheapen your ‘correspondence’.” Fiona rolls her eyes and giggles at herself. “Seriously though, Basil, just ask him out on a date.”

I imagine myself asking Simon out on a date. Then I imagine Simon rejecting me and telling me that I had the wrong idea. 

“What if he says no? It would be really awkward being neighbors after that,” I say.

“But what if he says yes? Then it would be really awesome being neighbors,” Fiona wiggles her eyebrows up and down suggestively making me chuckle.

I imagine myself asking him out, then I imagine him smiling at me. His whole face lighting up, shining on me… 

“I’ll do it,” I tell her. She claps her hands excitedly. “I have an idea. Will you help me?”


	8. Taking Chances

SIMON

 

“I’ll be right back, Si. I’m going downstairs to grab our clothes from the laundry mat,” Penny calls from the kitchen doorway. She looks into the sink that I’m standing over. “I’ll finish those dishes if you fold the clothes,” she says. 

“Yeah right. I’m nearly finished,” I tell her. 

“Can’t blame a girl for trying,” she says in a sing song voice as she turns to leave. 

I glance up at the clock above the stove. It’s nearly 10 PM and I haven’t gotten a message from Pitch all day.

I shouldn’t have said what I said. I should have kept it friendly. It wasn’t that flirty though, was it? I could have been talking about anything. Maybe I should go over and add to the note. I’d like to take my chances ON YOUR FRIENDSHIP, or AS YOUR NEIGHBOR, even. 

So lame. 

I should just write a whole new note. An apology. 

SORRY FOR BEING CHEEKY. PLEASE DON’T MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH ME EVER AGAIN.

I rinse off the last plate and dry my hands. I’m folding the towel over the handle of the fridge when I hear it. 

Depeche Mode’s “Just Can’t Get Enough” is playing so loud that it could be coming from my own stereo. 

I practically run to my front door and swing it open. The sight before me instantly puts a huge grin on my face. 

On the wall directly across from my flat, there are hundreds of neon colored Post Its spelling out 

**DINNER?**

***

BAZ

I peak my head around the corner to see if he’s come out yet.

He’s running his fingers over the Post Its with an amused look on his face. 

Well, it’s now or never…

I slowly walk up behind him and clear my throat. 

“I see you got my message,” I say. 

Simon, turns around to face me and his expression of amusement gives way a little to surprise then happiness. 

“I was worried I scared you off,” he says. “But…This is…” he stammers, “It’s… It’s so…”

“Romantic?” I suggest.

“Hella romantic,” he agrees. 

"So, um," I clear my throat again, and find myself looking past Simon's shoulder instead of directly at him. "Are you free tomorrow night?"

Simon reaches over and takes my hand in his, pressing it to his chest. 

He smiles even wider. 

“I’d love to go to dinner with you, Pitch.”

I let myself relax at his words and smile back at him. 

“Call me Baz.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks! I hope you all have a lovely Valentine's Day! 
> 
> If you have any writing prompts or suggestions for me, please let me know in the comments. 
> 
> xoxo


End file.
